Fanatic (Hellfire MC: The Prospects #1)

Chapter Nine.

Willow

W hat the fuck? Why would somebody send me this?

Fanatic removed it quickly and dumped it in the outside trash can. I was more concerned because the security camera had been covered up.

“When you back at work?” Fanatic demanded as he came inside and locked the doors.

“How’s that relevant?”

“Because, babe, someone slit that rat’s throat. That’s a statement.”

I couldn’t disagree. Covering up the cameras was another chilling message. Fanatic’s gaze landed on the baby monitor, where we could see Danny sound asleep. That was one good thing.

“Gonna call Slaughter and Harlequin to come tomorrow morning and to put in a new system,” Fanatic stated. I nodded.

“Slaughter?” I said, my mind catching up.

“Yeah, he does security. Top-notch too. Tomorrow, I’ll have this locked up tighter than a nun’s knickers,” Fanatic replied as he typed on his phone.

Amused, I began laughing.

“Willow, this ain’t funny!”

“A nun’s knickers! Your English sayings!”

“You yanks have some weird ones, too,” Fanatic shot back as he finished typing.

“Rude,” I muttered and grinned. “Want a coffee?”

“Yeah.”

“And you can tell me about that date,” I said, and Fanatic groaned.

“Can we not?”

“Nope.”

“It was a freaking disaster, Willow,” Fanatic called as I headed for the kitchen.

“And I need a giggle,” I retorted.

Fanatic’s second groan came through clearly, and I smiled. I needed a few minutes to make coffee because I was overjoyed Fanatic’s date had been bad. Why I was happy his evening had been a fuckup, I didn’t know, but I was.

I laughed all the way through Fanatic’s explanation, and I did feel sorry for him. Poor Fanatic. He thought he was getting a sweet girl, and she turned into the whore of Babylon. Tears fell when Fanatic told me April had offered him a threesome, and he’d worked out why. Sadly, I shook my head as Fanatic looked thoroughly disgusted.

“Bitches look at me and see a fat bank account. Hell, I wonder what they’d do if they discovered my trust fund supported the scholarships and I live on my earnings.”

“They would probably try to change your mind somehow. Honestly, I feel sorry for them because they’ll never be happy. Constantly chasing the next rich man, nah, that is not a life. Or worse, becoming a trophy wife that’s changed after ten years. That’s tragic. None of them consider what happens when their looks fade. And they do because it’s all fake plastic surgery.” “Tomorrow, I’m meeting a client, Harper, he’s a street racer with deep pockets. He’s coming to approve a design. Come with me until security is updated here,” Fanatic said as he yawned.

“FBI here, remember?”

“Yup. And you’re my family, please indulge me,” Fanatic asked.

Shit. That made me go all mushy inside. “Okay. I’m off to bed. Sweet dreams.”

Fanatic

Sweet dreams, my ass. I was awake half the night, wishing it had been Willow I’d been on a date with. If I never saw April again, it would be too soon. Finally, I succumbed to sleep, but it was unsettled and left me grumpy the next morning. After we’d got ready, I rode my Harley while Willow followed in her SUV. I’d informed Willow to wear her cut as it would protect her.

Harper was due soon, which allowed me time to go over the design again and check on the charity build. Harper arrived with two friends in a souped-up car that drew everyone’s attention.

I smirked as Harper climbed out and headed towards me with a huge grin.

“Fanatic! My main man! This is Taillights because all you ever see are his lights, and this is Nitro. What genius you got to show me this time,” he called. “Woah, who the fuck is that?” Harper demanded, catching sight of Willow.

Willow was standing talking to Big Al, who slung an arm over her shoulder and hugged her close. Her ass looked fuckin’ amazing in those jeans, and clearly, Harper and his friends agreed.

“That’s Willow, my best friend, and she’s unavailable,” I stated. Harper couldn’t take his eyes off her, and that was starting to bug me.

“Off-limits?” Harper drawled.

“Dude, roll your tongue in. It’s embarrassing,” I said jokingly, but there was an undertone to my voice.

“Woman’s yours?”

“No. A friend. Willow’s dead fiancé was also my best friend. Grey died last year in the war. Willow’s not looking,” I stated firmly.

Harper faced me with a searching stare. Fuck, had I just given something away? A slow grin stretched across his face. “Introduce me.”

“You’re here to look at designs, not flirt,” I retorted as Willow turned and noticed me.

Shit.

A smile crossed her lips, and Willow kissed Big Al and headed over. Harper stood up straighter and offered Willow his most charming smile. Willow blinked and tucked under my arm.

“Hello gorgeous,” Harper smooched.

“Hey, handsome and overly confident. Whatever you’re selling, this girl ain’t buying. Now that shit’s out of the way, I’m Willow,” she said.

Tickled, I began laughing alongside Nitro and Taillights at the startled expression on Harper’s face before he grinned. “Hey. Great to meet you.”

“Will you be okay to have Danny in a couple of hours? I gotta pop into the office and collect more files. Jimenez has some names for me,” Willow asked, looking up at me.

“Anyone going with you?”

“Fanatic, I’m armed, don’t stress!”

“You’re carrying?” Harper exclaimed. “What are you? A bodyguard? I’ve got a body right here you can guard.”

Willow winced and sneered. “Shit, I threw up in my mouth.”

“Dude, that was seriously fucked and perverted,” I told Harper, who laughed.

“Yeah, that crap sounded better in my head. Sorry, but anyway, what do you do?”

“I’m a Fed. As in FBI, Harper,” Willow replied.

Harper’s eyes widened, and he opened his mouth. Taillights clasped a hand over it.

Willow held a hand up. “Don’t bother,” she warned.

“Come on, before Willow starts digging your grave,” I said to Harper, who nodded and followed me and Willow into my office at the garage. Excited, I pulled up the laptop, threw the design into the projector, and let Harper look.

“Fuck,” Harper exclaimed and approached the large screen on the wall. He angled his head one way and another.

Willow

The design Fanatic was showing Harper was out of the world good, and I wondered if Fanatic realised that. Apart from his initial exclamation, Harper had gone quiet as Fanatic rotated the blueprint. Nitro and Taillights had stepped up and were examining it carefully.

“What specs this running to?” Nitro asked.

I tuned out as the four men began talking about engines and lord knows what else. For half an hour, they went back and forth before Harper nodded.

“You have a sale, my man, especially with that artwork. That’s the icing on the cake.”

Fanatic smiled, and I nearly did a happy dance. This meant big things for him.

“You got a year waiting list?” Nitro questioned.

“Yeah,” Fanatic answered.

“What if I give you twenty per cent more to bump me up?” Nitro asked.

“Generous offer, my man. But if I start games like that, my rep takes a hit. If you want a car from me, it’s worth waiting a year for,” Fanatic replied.

“Thirty,” Nitro pushed.

“Nope, no can do.”

“You’re honest. I’ll wait and put a fifty-k deposit down to secure my slot,” Nitro said.

“You were testing Fanatic?” I asked, surprised.

“Yeah. A man’s integrity means a lot. Means I ain’t gotta take the car apart because I can’t trust him. If Fanatic says he’s put or done something, I know Fanatic isn’t bullshittin’ me,” Nitro responded.

“If Fanatic could be bought, then his shit might not be genuine,” Taillights replied.

Okay, I guess that made sense.

“How’s this work?” Nitro asked.

“Pay your deposit, 10-k is plenty. That will secure your place. When it’s your turn, we have a meeting and discuss what you want. As soon as I’ve got an idea, I’ll come up with a design, and we’ll tweak it until you’re satisfied. You’ll be given a written quote, which acts as a contract. You pay half up front and rest on delivery,” Fanatic explained.

“Sounds good. Sign me up,” Nitro agreed.

Watching Fanatic felt amazing. He was truly in his element, and I could tell he enjoyed his work. Fanatic was completely relaxed, and it was something rare to see. I left Fanatic to chat shit with the guys and wandered off. I’d have to take Danny with me to collect the files.

As I walked across the forecourt to enter the gate to the clubhouse, I noticed Jinx heading towards me.

“Chance has given me Danny to watch,” Jinx announced.

“Oh, nice to know Chance is dishing out who has Danny, not that he’s my son and I matter!” I replied, put out.

“Chance says Danny neutralises the Jinx effect,” Jinx said, and we both laughed.

“Work it, Jinxy, work it, honey.”

“All those shitty jobs lined up for me… I’ll text you, and you can bring Danny,” Jinx suggested, but I caught the look in his eyes. Jinx really did enjoy looking after Danny.

“You can have my son. Just watch out, Jinx, as he’s teething,” I warned.

“Should have informed Chance that. Prez’s nose is bright red, and his chin has teeth marks.”

“Damn, Danny chomped?”

“Yeah, chomp-chomped. That’s when Chance gave Danny to me.” Jinx grinned.

“My son’s all yours. If Fanatic asks where I’ve gone, let him know I headed into work and will be back in a couple of hours.”

“Will do, Willow.”

Jinx bounced away like an eager puppy, keen to get his hands on my boy. I waved at Rascal as I climbed into my SUV and headed out of the gate.

Fanatic

I realised Willow wasn’t in the compound when Slaughter approached to ask when we’d be home to see the new security system. I instantly felt bad because I’d got lost shooting the shit with the guys and Willow had asked me to watch Danny.

Harper, Nitro, and Taillights all took off, and I grabbed my phone and phoned Willow.

She didn’t answer, and I wondered if she was mad. I called again, and the call was dropped. Damn!

“What’s up?” Chance asked.

“I got into it with the boys and forgot Willow had to go to the office. I offered to watch Danny,” I said.

Chance’s eyes narrowed. I shifted uncomfortably, and knowledge flared deep in them.

“Don’t say it. If it ain’t mentioned, then it doesn’t exist,” I snapped.

“Damn Fanatic, you hid that well…”

“Uncle Chance, no. This isn’t up for discussion.”.

Chance crossed his arms and stared me down. That was fine; it might make everyone else crack, but not me. I’d been at the receiving end of that stare too many times from him and Dad. Calmly, I raised an eyebrow, and Chance’s scowl deepened.

“Got a situation,” Shotgun bellowed, racing out of the clubhouse.

“Oh yeah? What?”

“Fuckin’ Willow is in the middle of a shootout! That shit’s all over the news!”

For a few seconds, it didn’t sink in. “What did you say? Willow’s gone to the office to fetch some files.”

“Looks like Willow drove into something, and now she’s in a gunfight!” Shotgun yelled as his ass hit the bike, and he roared out.

We began running. Chance’s mobile began ringing as mine did. Chance answered as he ran, but I didn’t. I’d lay money that was Axel.

“I’m fuckin’ riding, cousin, and I’ve no clue how Willow got herself into a firefight! Get off the damn phone!” Chance yelled.

I hit my bike before him and was out of the gates, which Rascal had opened. Chance’s bike roared behind me, and as soon as I hit the road, I opened my throttle. On this fucker, nobody could catch me. Except I didn’t know which route to take. I slowed, and Chance overtook me and flipped me the finger as I got on his tailpipe.

Fuck, Willow, hold on, we’re coming!

Willow

Just over half an hour into my journey to the new offices, I was on a straight stretch of the I-90 when I saw something that caused alarm.

An armoured cash-in-transport van had been forced off the road and lay on its side, and men were trying to break into it. Slamming on the brakes, I skidded to a stop, yanked my phone out, and dialled Markin.

“It’s Ware. I’m watching an armed robbery in progress. Boss, I’m between Tilford and Piedmont on the I-90. I need backup,” I announced before Markin could say a word.

“Back-up’s coming!” Markin replied as he yelled for agents.

I cut the call, pulled my gun from the glove box, and grabbed extra clips. The scene outside was deteriorating, and violence was about to break out. Civilians had stopped and were being targeted. Quickly, I drove my SUV across onto the other side and skidded to a halt sideways.

I hit the emergency lights, identifying myself as law enforcement, and climbed out of the passenger side.

“This is ASAC Ware of the FBI. Put your weapons down and your hands up!” I yelled. There was an injured guy in the front of the van, blood streaming from his head, and he was unconscious. The second guard had to be in the rear.

“Fuck you, bitch,” a man screeched and opened fire.

I crouched behind the front of my car. Damn, I’d had this fucker four years and was partial to it. Bullets hit my SUV, and I cursed furiously.

A guy ran for their escape car, and I took aim and fired. He collapsed, yelling with a leg shot. The asshole rolled away, and I ducked as bullets flew back at me.

“Get the fucking car!” a second man yelled.

“I repeat, I’m ASAC Ware of the FBI. You have been called in, and police helicopter has been scrambled. You’ve got nowhere to go. Lay your weapons down!” I shouted.

“Back up, bitch,” a third guy shouted.

An engine started, and I guessed someone was making a run for it. Shit!

I knew by the angle of my SUV that at least one of my tyres was blown out. I dropped to the ground and searched for their vehicle. Seeing it, I fired shots into their wheels, taking out the front two and then aiming slightly higher, I hit their radiator. That was now dead in the road, and liquid gushed from it.

A hail of bullets hit my car, and I cursed. This was now a damn write-off. That made me really pissed. There was a break in firing, and I returned fire. A scrape made me turn, and I hit the ground as a tyre iron smashed into where I’d been hiding. One of the men had crept behind me while I was distracted.

I landed hard and fired instantly. The tyre iron had been raised and was coming down as my bullets took my attacker in the chest. He staggered backwards, and I leapt up and kicked him over. Grabbing cuffs from the glove box, I flung him onto his front and cuffed him. I didn’t think he’d be much of a danger, but I wasn’t risking it.

Did that make three or four men? Two were wounded. I’d seen a third, but was there a fourth?

“Tony!” one yelled.

“Shut up, fucking idiot. No names!”

“I can see Tony. Bitch shot him!”

“Shut up!”

Jesus, was this amateur hour or what? Sirens wailed in the distance, and I guessed the cops were coming. In front of them, though, roared Harleys, and four bikers headed towards me from Piedmont. A flurry of bullets hit my car again, and I ducked down and curled into a ball as the bikers got closer.

Someone was screaming mindlessly as I watched Scythe, Bishop, Nash, and Narcissus pull up behind gawkers who had stopped close by. Moving forward and using the cars as shields, they drew guns, aimed and began shooting.

“You can’t shoot at us!” the mouthy fucker screeched.

Curiously, I popped my head up and saw a scrawny guy running towards the Devil’s Scythe, firing as he did so. Calmly, I lined up and took him down. My shot got him dead centre of his back, and he went down.

“One left, I think, Scythe!” I yelled. My head was on a swivel for the offender when I was tackled hard from behind. I hit full force on my front, and my face smashed into the ground, and I tasted blood.

“Willow!” several yells echoed. They began running towards me but were pushed back as they were shot at again.

Someone grabbed my hand and rapped it hard, trying to make me lose grip. I slammed my head back twice and heard a nose crunch. The fool clutched his nose, which lessened his control over me. I twisted and took my chance and got him in the groin with a punch.

An animalistic scream escaped him as I hit a second and third time, and he fell backwards. I shoved upwards, kicked him in his face, and knocked him out.

Cars screeched behind me.

“I’m ASAC Ware of the FBI, we’ve got one shooter left!”

“Are you okay, ma’am?” someone yelled as I slumped down against the side of my car.

“Need cuffs,” I called.

A female officer scrambled across the small gap between their cars and mine and cuffed the unconscious asshole.

“Reaching for my badge, officer,” I said as I reached inside my coat.

“Know who you are, Ma’am. We were informed an agent was on scene,” she responded as I showed her my badge. My eyes felt like they were swelling.

“What’s your name?”

“Philips.” “My face a mess, Philips?”

“Ma’am, you’re fucked up,” Philips replied.

I laughed. “Sounds about right,” I complained as I heard more sirens. “Fuck my life.”